


A Warm Gun

by withcoffeespoons



Category: Marble Hornets
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Gun Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-18
Updated: 2013-01-18
Packaged: 2018-02-24 00:26:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2561288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withcoffeespoons/pseuds/withcoffeespoons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This time the gun is in Jay's hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Warm Gun

His eyes are closed when he pulls the trigger. It hurts his hand and his ears, and he doesn’t know what’s worse: the gun firing, or Alex’s cry of pain.

Jay can’t watch, doesn’t look as he turns away to keep running. But Alex crumples to the ground and calls his name, and his voice sounds weak and feverish and Jay’s afraid to see if he’s killed him or not.

"Jay, please," Alex cries, voice desperate, and frayed.

He stops, turns, gun still in his shaking hand.

Alex’s leg is covered in blood, held at a tender angle. His expression is stricken, and Jay thinks that if this had happened a year ago, Alex would have been pissed off, murderous. Now, he just looks vulnerable, disappointed.

Jay stops only a few feet away from him.

Through heavy breaths, Alex begs him, “Please,” and Jay’s not sure what he means.

Then Alex tilts his head up, and looks at Jay through wet, hollow eyes. “Do it,” he says, looking down at the gun for a moment. “End it,” he finishes.

Jay considers it, grips the gun in his hand, feels the weight of it. Thinks about how easy it would be to bend his elbow, line up the close-range shot, and pull the trigger. He’s close enough that he’d probably feel the warmth of Alex’s blood on his hands.

He shakes his head, arm remaining limp at his side. “No, Alex,” he says, voice flat. “Because when does it end for me? I’m here because of you.” He doesn’t know where the words are coming from, but the anger has been there for months, years, even.

"This isn’t me," he says.

And part of him wants to throw the gun to the ground. Alex’s blood is already on his hands, he reminds himself. That’s further than he ever wanted to take it.

But he’s not stupid, not naive enough to think that Alex wouldn’t use the gun if it were laid in front of him.

And Jay closes his eyes and enjoys the feeling, the irrefutable knowledge that for the first time in months, he wants to live.

And he walks away.


End file.
